


Oh, How I Love You

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Love, M/M, Sweet, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Valentine’s Day, sweeheart challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: Mornings like these made loving Dean easy.





	Oh, How I Love You

Castiel was a being of many titles and many names, most of which he received in the several most recent years of his life. There was, of course, his original titles. The ones he had been created for: Castiel, the name God had given him, Angel of the Lord, the creature that he was, and soldier, for the tasks he performed in his garrison. Those were the first things Castiel had learned to respond to, and now all but his name brought him a twinge of sadness. The toll of the past decade had been heavy.

Then again, it hadn’t been _all_ bad. Dean, of course, was the star player of the past decade and he was Castiel’s most favorite thing. Favorite person. Favorite everything. He hadn’t understood love before Dean, not really. He’d watched it from up on high. He’d felt it vicariously through Jimmy Novak when he looked upon his wife. But nothing prepared him for the real thing.

Nothing could have prepared him for pain, the pleasure and how they created an amalgamation that left him stumbling and inebriated. No one could have explained how it felt like stars were being born and dying in a shower of sparks just for them, or how the warmth of Dean’s skin was the closest thing to true heaven Castiel had ever felt. Nowhere could Castiel have found the sound of Dean’s voice and how it saved him over and over.

Dean was fire incarnate and Castiel burned within him. It was so hard to breathe with Dean’s ash in his lungs, and yet, lungful by lungful, he took Dean in like the air he had never needed before. Dean stripped Castiel bare. He was powerful, mighty; he could kill Dean with a flick of his wrist, and yet, the quirk of Dean’s lips when he smiled made Castiel as weak as a trembling infant, a blip in his true lifespan.

It was far from easy. Dean and Castiel could never be easy. Sometimes Castiel thought they had been doomed from the beginning, but each time they raged against each other like waves of the sea breaking against jagged cliffs, Castiel knew he felt pieces of Dean fill in the places where shards of him broke off. In those moments Castiel knew that ease was never the point. Even at their most contentious, they were still them, so twisted together it was hard to know where one ended and the other began.

Today, Castiel lay quietly beneath the sheets of his and Dean’s bed. Newly resurrected and at full strength, Castiel needed sleep no longer. But Dean did, and wherever he was, Castiel wanted to be, so Dean slept and Castiel pressed close, guarding him from the dark. This morning though, Castiel wasn’t protecting Dean from anything.

His face was smashed against Dean’s chest, one leg crammed between both of Dean’s and the blankets over Castiel were weighted down by the heavy addition of Dean’s arm. They were both nude from the night’s romp that had left Sam banging on their door and bellowing at them to keep it down. Castiel smiled slightly at the memory and took some time to take stock.

He could feel Dean’s heart pounding the steady _thrum_ _thrum_ of life against his ribs. His slow, even breaths stirred Castiel’s hair at every exhale. Dean smelled like the morning, like sweat from the previous night and cheap soap and warmth from a night snuggled under the bedclothes with Castiel.

Dean shifted closer, muttering a sleepy “Cas.” Another of Castiel’s titles, bestowed unto him by Dean not long after they first met.

“Dean,” Castiel rumbled back, voice gruff from lack of use. Dean’s arm tightened around Castiel as he awoke and Castiel nuzzled into his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to the purple mark he’d made there last night.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Dean said, voice rumbly and syrupy sweet. Castiel swore he fell in love all over again when Dean called him that, _sweetheart_ , because it was rare and it only happened when Dean was feeling particularly doting.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel leaned in for a kiss, terrible morning breath be damned. Dean returned it lingeringly and nuzzled Castiel’s cheek. Castiel ran his fingers over the smooth plains of Dean’s stomach, petting him, relearning him again.

“Let’s go shower,” Dean suggested, a lewd grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Castiel rolled his eyes and followed Dean as he slid out of bed and trudged unabashedly naked to the bathroom. Castiel automatically shut and locked the door and turned on the shower as Dean sleepily relieved himself in the toilet. Castiel stepped into the shower, relishing in the warmth of the water and then relishing in Dean when he slipped in behind Castiel and pressed in close.

Mornings like these made loving Dean easy.

Dean’s hands, slick with soap massaged away the sweat and invisible grime of the night, and his tongue and lips laved lazy kisses into Castiel’s wet neck. Castiel returned the favor and washed Dean, while Dean reached around him to grope his ass. A helpless laugh bubbled up from Castiel’s throat. Dean grinned like a cat who caught a canary. Castiel pressed his forehead against Dean’s collarbone, shoulders shaking until his mirth infected Dean they were just slippery limbs and laughter and coconut scented body wash.

“What were we laughing about?” Dean asked a few minutes later around a mouthful of glee. Castiel just shook his head.

“I believe you were trying to seduce me by grabbing my buttocks,” he stated calmly. Dean’s chuckles renewed tenfold.

“You’re such an _idiot_ , Cas. And call it your ‘ass’ like a normal person.”

Castiel’s heart warmed over. Dean always said _idiot_ like he meant _I love you._

“Are you telling me you don’t want to have sex?” Castiel arched his eyebrow smoothly.

“That’s not what I said.” Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel lasciviously, all tongue and warmth. Castiel returned it for a moment, but withdrew.

“Come, let’s dry off,” Castiel said with a wry smile, “I won’t be able to, how do you prefer I put it? ‘Get it up’ until after breakfast and coffee.” Castiel needed neither of those things, but he enjoyed them.

“Fine,” Dean said without malice, “but I get the fluffy towel and _you’re_ making the coffee.”

“I can agree to your terms.” Castiel nodded solemnly. Their mock gravity lasted for all of two seconds before they were back to giggling like children. Father help him, Castiel loved mornings like these.

A half hour later found Dean and Castiel at the table, munching on bacon sandwiches courtesy of Dean and nursing coffee that Castiel had made to both of their preferences. A sleep rumpled Sam eventually joined them and soon after, Gabriel. The archangel was still very much on the mend, but it was a start. Jack bounded over to the table, a picture of excitement as he exclaimed:

“Father! Dean! Sam! Uncle Gabe! The computer says it’s Valentine’s Day!”

 _Father_. The most recent of Castiel’s names and one he was still getting used to. He liked though and he had a strong suspension that it would be a fitting title for Dean once Jack became more used to his benevolence.

“So it is, kid,” Dean agreed, “well, what do you say, sweetheart?” Dean turned to Castiel and quirked his eyebrow. There it was again, Castiel’s favorite title.

“Dean?” Castiel, being of many titles, could grant none to anybody. But when he said Dean, he meant _beloved_ , which Dean knew, and that was enough.

“Shall we _celebrate?”_  The suggestiveness was in his smile.

“Gross, jerk!” Sam barked over his cereal.

Gabriel said little right now, but his amber eyes twinkled with merriness when they met Castiel’s.

“Why is it gross?” A furrow appeared between Jack’s brows.

“I’ll tell you when your older,” Dean replied.

Castiel hid a smile. Yes, Dean would be well suited to the title of father one day, a fact that made Castiel fall a little harder for him. A little deeper. A little madder.

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel found himself saying. Valentine’s Day was one for declarations after all.

“Love you back, sweetheart.”

Oh, it was all so easy, being in love today.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own nor do I claim to own Supernatural or the characters therein. They belong to Eric Kripke, the CW network and Warner Brothers. All rights reserved. I own nothing but the plot. I make no monetary benefit from this story. I live to entertain.


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